


religion for a week

by mainland



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: (Canadian specifically), Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Asian-American AU, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, having sex to test if you're gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25531792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mainland/pseuds/mainland
Summary: They shared secrets; that was the cornerstone of their friendship. So, in the last month of summer before university, two weeks after Seunghoon had broken up with his third girlfriend in four years, Jinwoo told Seunghoon he was in love with him.
Relationships: Kim Jinwoo/Lee Seunghoon
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	religion for a week

**Author's Note:**

> apparently i wrote this in 2016 and only rediscovered it now?? re-titled for winner's [everyday](https://genius.com/Genius-english-translations-winner-everyday-english-translation-lyrics).

It hadn't gone badly, Jinwoo decided, turning off the tap and leaning forward to inspect himself in the mirror. Forgoing the bathroom's slightly musty towels, he dried his face with a wad of toilet paper and swept back the damp hair stuck to the sides of his flushed cheeks. The small room was several degrees warmer than the rest of the house, poorly ventilated and humid. Around him, the muffled noise of the last party of the summer pulsed through the walls like an erratic heartbeat.

He wiped his mouth one last time, tossed his drained Styrofoam cup in the wastebasket, and unlocked the door. 

Seunghoon was still lying where he'd left him. Legs sprawled across the end of the king-size bed, ankles propped on the footboard, shirt pushed up past his belly button, his dick soft against his thigh. 

Jinwoo stared, unable to convince himself to look away. He hoped the room was dark enough that it wasn't obvious, though the bedside lamp gave enough light for him to see that the head was still flushed and wet, and the slim girth of the shaft, nestled in wiry hairs. "What if someone comes in?" he asked. 

Seunghoon lifted his head, blinking slowly like he'd just woken up. "That's a risk of the authentic house party experience."

Jinwoo imagined it briefly, and shook his head. He wasn't ready for that, not in this town at any rate, and he said so aloud. "Plus they'd get the wrong idea about you," he added. 

"Technically I guess it wouldn't be wrong." Seunghoon gave a pointed glance to his crotch, and Jinwoo took this as permission to look again. Now Seunghoon's dick appeared almost exactly like it had when Jinwoo first pulled it out of his underwear, flaccid and harmless. Jinwoo sucked on the inside of his cheek, chasing for remnants of the salt of Seunghoon's come, and regretted rinsing his mouth so thoroughly in the bathroom, though the taste and texture had been overwhelming in the moment. 

"I didn't know if you would finish." Jinwoo said.

Seunghoon looked thoughtful. "I wasn't sure either. But after you started I stopped thinking about it." He pinched the head of his dick between two fingers and wagged it in the air. "I guess it's true what they say: a mouth is a mouth." 

Jinwoo wouldn't know, not having had any experiences with mouths. "So it was okay?" His cheeks warmed, but he had to ask. 

"Yeah, it was good. You were good. You have a pretty, you know." Seunghoon swirled his finger in the direction of Jinwoo's lower face. "How was it for you though? I guess you didn't hate it since you didn't stop, but were you into it? Did it turn you on?"

The burn on Jinwoo's face spread to his ears and down the back of his neck, and he felt as overheated as he'd had half an hour ago, when he'd been crouched between Seunghoon's legs with the blunt head of Seunghoon's cock resting against his bottom lip. He had been hard then and he was still hard now, his dick pressed uncomfortably against the line of his zipper. His hand dropped to his belt, but he didn't know what to say. 

Seunghoon's eyes tracked the motion, brows raised. This time Jinwoo wished the room was brighter, so his answer would be self-evident. "Yeah. Everything—checked out." 

"Cool," said Seunghoon. "Good to know." He paused. "Do you need me to do anything for you? You haven't…" He made another vague gesture in the air. 

"Oh, um, don't worry about it," Jinwoo said. "You don't have to do anything. You can go ahead, I'll just be a minute." He waved in the direction of the bathroom.

"No, man, that's not fair. C'mere." Seunghoon patted the mattress. "Besides, the whole point is to see if I really do it for you. Might as well test this properly."

Jinwoo hesitated, but he knew Seunghoon wouldn't let him go. Dragging his feet a little, he crossed the room and took a seat on the edge of the bed. This close, the smell of sex mixed with Seunghoon's sweet cologne to create a heady, almost sickening musk. Jinwoo breathed in deep through his nose. "You don't have to touch me," he insisted.

Seunghoon lifted his hips and tugged his underwear and jeans back on, zipping himself up. "Alright, I don't have to touch your junk, but I can put my arm around you or something?"

"Maybe, can you—" Jinwoo nudged Seunghoon until he was sitting with his legs off the side of the bed, back turned to Jinwoo. "Maybe just sit there, and I'll—go behind you." His hand lingered at the small of Seunghoon's back. 

"Sure," Seunghoon said easily. "Let me know if you want anything else."

Jinwoo's throat closed up briefly as he thought of what _didn't_ he want. As quietly as he could, he undid the front of his pants. His hand pressed more firmly against Seunghoon's back and when Seunghoon didn't flinch, Jinwoo took a shaky breath and shifted closer, so their bodies were only inches apart. Seunghoon's back was broad and shadowy, the worn surface of his flannel overshirt impossibly soft between Jinwoo's fingers. He smelled like a dozen human things, sex and sweat and beer. Jinwoo closed his eyes and lowered his head, slowly and carefully, until his forehead rested on the ridge of Seunghoon's shoulder. Like sinking through the deep end of a pool in search of the bottom; a total immersion. 

Jinwoo had told Seunghoon the first half of the truth at the after party on prom night. The school committee had rented out one of the pubs downtown and rearranged the space to look like a club. Seunghoon was still dating Sarah Emery back then, and he'd been watching her dance with her girlfriends in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, swirling a glass of Coke in one hand, when Jinwoo made his confession. 

"What? How do you know?" was Seunghoon's startled response. 

Equally startled, Jinwoo blinked at him. "I don't know, I just do. How do you know you're straight?"

"Because I've fucked girls," Seunghoon replied without batting an eye. "You haven't even kissed either." He spoke with the confidence of someone who knew everything about Jinwoo, and he was right. 

"I'm pretty sure," Jinwoo said, staring into his own drink.

"Since when?"

Jinwoo thought about it. The idea of romance had never occurred to him back in Barrington, Nova Scotia, where none of the girls, much less the boys, gave a second glance to the lone Korean boy in school. It was only after his parents sent him out of their lobster fishing town to live with an aunt on the outskirts of the GTA that his capacity for sexuality made itself known to him; after he met Seunghoon and was shown all the aspects of life he previously believed were available only to other people: parties, sleepovers, study dates, team sports, after school clubs, social cliques, career ambitions, selfish aspirations, peers with whom he had a genuine rapport. 

Everything had been a gradual process. "Maybe the end of grade nine. There wasn't really a single moment. I just… slowly realized." 

"I see." Seunghoon said. His expression was appraising, and Jinwoo would be offended if they didn't live so much in each other's pockets. Of course Seunghoon was skeptical that he hadn't been able to detect something that changed his reality so dramatically. He didn't understand how deeply Jinwoo could bury his secrets. 

"It never really seemed relevant." Jinwoo said. "I wasn't trying to hide anything from you."

"Well, I don't care, you'll always be my best friend," Seunghoon said, sounding like he was reciting the tolerance pamphlets from health class.

"I know," Jinwoo agreed, and then Sarah came back, and Seunghoon handed Jinwoo his Coke before he took her hand and swept her towards the dance floor. 

They didn't bring it up often after that, although they didn't avoid the subject either. Sometimes Seunghoon would point out a guy for Jinwoo and Jinwoo would demur, which he knew only served to further Seunghoon's skepticism. 

In retrospect, maybe he had been waiting to see if Seunghoon would make the first move. 

_I'll make hangover soup if u bring bagels and aspirin_ , was the first message Jinwoo received from Seunghoon the day after the house party, so at ten-thirty in the morning, he found himself sitting at Seunghoon's kitchen table, clutching a paper bag of cinnamon raisin and fighting back nausea.

He'd woken that morning paralyzed by fear, the memory of what had happened so senseless that for a second he'd assured himself that it was just another of his messed-up dreams. Then he'd spent the next half hour in a miserable cold sweat, convinced their friendship would never recover. The chime of his text notification had arrived like a death knell. 

But the message had been an obvious olive branch and Seunghoon was behaving like normal, though not like he'd suddenly suffered amnesia either, judging from the wry half-smile he'd shared with Jinwoo at the door. The sick feeling in Jinwoo's stomach had scarcely abated, but maybe that was just his hangover. 

Seunghoon ladled their soup into bowls and set out several small plates of banchan. "Freshly made last weekend," he pronounced. Seunghoon lived in an empty house for the most part, with his dad on extended business trips and his mother living with his sisters while they studied in Toronto, but every two weeks his mom drove down to stock the fridge and freezer with home-cooked food. "You look good, by the way." Seunghoon held out his hand for a bagel. 

"I don't feel that good," Jinwoo said, handing him the whole bag. "My aunt dropped me off on her way to a church thing and I kept thinking she was going to notice how badly I wanted to throw up." 

"I already threw up."

"Really?" A cold thought occurred to Jinwoo. "How drunk were you last night?"

Seunghoon ripped a bagel in half and dunked it in his bowl. "Not even close to _that_ drunk, so calm down and stop worrying that you're a predatory homosexual. Besides, it was my idea."

"You don't need to take all the credit," Jinwoo protested. "I'm just checking."

"I should be asking how drunk you were." Seunghoon continued. "You went from zero to sixty."

Seunghoon sounded as casual as though he was talking about the weather, and it made Jinwoo curl up a little on the inside. "Not that drunk." 

They ate in silence for a while. Jinwoo concentrated on the steaming soup, nibbling on radish kimchi and triangles of scallion pancake. His headache was nearly gone and his stomach was starting to settle when suddenly Seunghoon spoke again. 

"So you've never kissed a guy?" 

Jinwoo's gut twisted back up. "No."

"I almost feel like that would be the biggest difference," Seunghoon said. "Kissing is more intimate, right?"

Kissing your _cock_ is what's intimate, Jinwoo thought, but he looked at Seunghoon's mouth anyway. Seunghoon hadn't shaved that morning and the skin along his jaw looked a little rough, but his lips were sweetly curved and glistened from their meal. "You've been watching too many of my dramas," Jinwoo said, throat dry. 

"Do you want me to kiss you?" Seunghoon made eye contact, unperturbed and sincere. 

Jinwoo knew what this was about. Seunghoon finding a new crack in his shell and trying to pry him open, like a seagull knocking a stubborn mollusc against a rock, the compulsion learned from when they first met and Jinwoo had been a tight-lipped, withdrawn little creature that Seunghoon had had to coax into friendship; and that being precisely the cause of the other reason Seunghoon was being so dogged, as he'd said to Jinwoo after Jinwoo told him he was in love with him: he suspected Jinwoo of mistaking codependency for romantic desire, and was willing to push his limits to that test. This was Seunghoon applying pressure until Jinwoo broke. 

It was in his best interests to discourage Seunghoon's efforts and disabuse him of his theory, but, ironically, the truest proof of Jinwoo's desire was that instead he tipped his head back and said: "Yes."

Seunghoon wiped his hands on his shorts and moved his chair closer. He took a breath and licked over his teeth, checking for food residue. Jinwoo mimicked him, and then Seunghoon was cupping his face in large, warm hands that smelled of cinnamon and yeast, and there was a pressure against his mouth. Jinwoo's eyes had dropped shut the moment Seunghoon leaned forward. The press of the flesh of their lips together was unremarkable, but a new burn sparked in Jinwoo's stomach, his nerve endings lighting up everywhere else they touched: Seunghoon's bony knee against his, the stubble prickling his chin when Seunghoon tilted his head. 

Seunghoon started kissing him open-mouthed, slow and small. Jinwoo couldn't quite match his rhythm, and there were no fireworks, but—his fingers were digging into the collar of Seunghoon's shirt, and he was half-hard. 

The tip of Seunghoon's tongue traced along the inside of his bottom lip, and Jinwoo shuddered and pulled away. He dropped his hands to his lap as subtly as he could and peeked downwards with a sweep of his lashes, but Seunghoon's shorts were crumpled and he couldn't tell if there was anything to see.

Seunghoon touched his hand to his mouth, crinkling his forehead. "That's definitely different," he muttered, mostly to himself. To Jinwoo, he said, "Really?"

"Yeah," Jinwoo said, not knowing exactly what he was affirming, but knowing he meant it. 

Four days later, trying to stay cool in Seunghoon's living room after taking a dip in the neighbour's pool: "Are you a top or a bottom?"

Jinwoo frowned around his popsicle and lifted his head off the rug. Across from him, Seunghoon was sprawled across the arm of the loveseat, absorbed in whatever he was reading on his tablet. Gay porn, maybe. "Either?" he guessed. 

"Some of these sites say most gay men are switches, but some say in real life almost none of them are." Seunghoon said. "What do you think?"

"I dunno. That stuff is hard to say," Jinwoo said. He had thought about it before, of course. Thought about it and touched himself. With Seunghoon, he hadn't frequently imagined taking the dominant role, maybe because it made an impossible thing feel even more like a violation. As in real life, simpler to let Seunghoon lead.

"But you'd be willing to 'receive'?" Seunghoon made air quotes, peering at Jinwoo, and Jinwoo rolled his eyes. 

"It feels good," he said, purposely bold. "Also it seems like less work, so that's probably better when you don't have a lot of experience."

"It depends on the dick though," Seunghoon declared. "Some monsters don't belong anywhere near an ass. Or a pussy honestly. Like have you ever seen Vuong in the showers? Rest in peace."

Jinwoo hadn't, but he shrugged, rubbing his hand over his bare stomach. "You just need a lot of patience and lube." He closed his eyes and shifted into a more comfortable position, drawing one leg up. He could hear Seunghoon thinking. He wondered if the last time Seunghoon had gotten off was the night of the party, nearly a week ago. And before that, it'd been two weeks since he'd broken up with Sarah. 

Weight shifted on the loveseat. "That's what Sarah told me. We only made it up to two fingers though."

Jinwoo's eyes snapped open and he twisted his neck so he could see Seunghoon. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Hey, I'm an open-minded guy," Seunghoon said, though he wasn't exactly looking at Jinwoo. "I know about the prostate." 

"Did you like it?" At some point, Jinwoo's pinky and ring finger had dipped beneath the band of his borrowed boxers, almost low enough to skim the hair below if he stretched his hand. 

"Sure. Works just as well as they promise in biology class."

Jinwoo sucked the last bit of sugar from his popsicle stick. "Lucky," he said. "I haven't figured it out yet."

Another pause. Jinwoo didn't know what they were waiting for. It was a foregone conclusion, but—good manners? awkwardness?—dictated that this be drawn out. There were boundaries to dance around, even if they were lines in sand.

"Do you—"

"Yes," Jinwoo said, already reaching up with both arms to receive Seunghoon as Seunghoon bent over him. Seunghoon's fingers, long and slender, pressed down hard on his shoulders, and Jinwoo pictured the bruises they could leave behind on the backs of his eyelids as he lifted his chin and let Seunghoon tug the popsicle stick out between his teeth.

Telling Seunghoon the rest of the truth had been less a decision and more an inevitability. Maybe he would have held off if Seunghoon had stayed in a relationship, but once that courtesy was gone, it was just a matter of timing. Seunghoon was quick to judge and had a sharp tongue, but the fear that he wouldn't take it well had only been a theoretical concern. Even in the days when Seunghoon had to regularly storm Jinwoo's room and turn on all the lights to drag him, passive and resistant, from whatever dark corner he was dwelling in, they'd recognized each other's kindred spirit. What was a habit now started almost as a game: two kids delighted to find a mutual outlet in one another, staying up late to share their most private thoughts no matter how irresolute or taboo. Maybe at this point his disclosure hadn't even been an inevitability, but an obligation. 

Besides, they would be attending the same university in a week. There were compromises Jinwoo was willing to make living under the watchful eye of his aunt, his school, and his parents, but moving away marked the end of that, and he didn't want Seunghoon to be taken by surprise.

As it turned out, Jinwoo had been the one surprised. Seunghoon took the confession on the night of the party like he'd been handed the last piece of a puzzle he was struggling to complete. 

"When you say you have feelings for me, it sounds like a way for you to bind yourself to us, _here_ ," he explained, waving his arms to indicate their surroundings. "I mean, it took you a long time to warm up to anyone when you first moved here, and you'll be starting all over again in college."

"You think I'm using you like a safety rope?"

"I'm just wondering if you decided this was the right idea because we're so close, and I've been responsible for a lot of your firsts, I guess you could say. I don't want you to block yourself off from new people or experiences." Seunghoon spoke so seriously that Jinwoo felt bemused and sympathetic rather than offended. "And you've always been a romantic. I'm worried about being the wrong conduit. I think it's easy to confuse things, or mix up feelings."

What did it matter even if that were the case, Jinwoo kept wondering later, after Seunghoon had suggested they try and see if Jinwoo would still want what he was asking for once he'd gotten it, and they'd searched the house for an unoccupied room. How did you ever know the difference? Wasn't love just mixed-up feelings, no matter what or who for? Every story he had ever heard told him it wasn't supposed to be clear or simple or easy, or even guaranteed to last. Jinwoo would rather pursue any chance at love that he got than waste time dawdling over what was or wasn't sufficiently real.

Maybe he should have listened to those stories a little better. Jinwoo thought he could take what Seunghoon gave him for as long as it was available, no questions asked. He reasoned that their relationship, already so close, had little room for further emotional development, so the only thing missing was the physical and if Seunghoon was willing to provide that, then there wasn't anything more to ask for. Seunghoon kissing him and letting him suck his cock already far exceeded Jinwoo's expectations. 

They spent the next week like they usually did: most of it at Seunghoon's house, where they played video games or Jinwoo streamed K-dramas while Seunghoon did last-minute packing for university; some of it at the mall, mostly for bubble tea and so Jinwoo could contemplate bleaching his hair (not until he moved out); a couple trips to the beach and the movies with their friends. Those times it was like nothing had changed. Jinwoo would look up from his laptop screen and see Seunghoon struggling to cram one more pair of novelty socks into a bursting suitcase, and the utter platonic nature of their bond would seem immutable. Depending on his mood, that either soothed him or agitated him—if the latter, Jinwoo would find himself getting to his feet to press Seunghoon up against the nearest surface, his hands pushing under Seunghoon's waistband before Seunghoon could react. 

They didn't have a lot of sex, but they had it regularly, and it seemed every iteration took them one step further. Jinwoo knew the weight of Seunghoon on his tongue, how Seunghoon liked to kiss with teeth, and what Seunghoon's fingers felt like inside of him. Now he was initiating most of the time, and Seunghoon, having apparently found that this was something he could derive pleasure from, went along without complaint. This was, at first, a relief. But as the end of the week drew near, Jinwoo grew restless. 

"Does me being sexually available make you respect me more or less?" he joked one afternoon when they were lying in Seunghoon's parents' bed, naked and still running hot. He was watching a bead of sweat make its way down Seunghoon's neck, tracking the inches before it reached his hand on Seunghoon's chest. 

Seunghoon blew at his damp bangs. "I've never thought about you and respect in the same sentence."

"Guess you could've said the same for me and 'sexually available' in a sentence," Jinwoo said. "Good job overcoming the limits of your imagination."

"You know me," Seunghoon said. 

Jinwoo wanted to be satisfied with that. No questions asked and everything was his. But maybe the problem was that he was greedier than he knew. He didn't want just everything in sight, but everything beyond the horizon too. Seunghoon thought he could give Jinwoo what he wanted and Jinwoo would realize it wasn't filling a void in his heart after all, but instead it had only sharpened his hunger, pulled his heart open like a yawning black maw. He wanted to know what Seunghoon was thinking when he wrapped his long fingers around Jinwoo's dick. He wanted to know what it meant that they were leaving in two days for brand new lives in a brand new city.

If Jinwoo continued with this, kept going along until Seunghoon finally agreed that, yes, it was real, he was right, he must truly be in love, and—then what?

In the greatest of all unrequited gay clichés, it ended with a girl. 

Ended, as in they were at their favourite pho place and a girl who'd graduated two years ago walked in, and Seunghoon immediately rose up and greeted her halfway with a hug. Jinwoo recognized her, remembered that she and Seunghoon had never dated but carried a close flirtation that was only mitigated by their age difference at the time and her revolving door of varsity badminton boyfriends. She must've been back in town for the summer. She looked great; Jinwoo couldn't pinpoint any specific changes to her hair or makeup, but she looked like all her edges had been polished and she moved with an ease that neither of them had. That was what two years of college did to you, Jinwoo supposed. Watching Seunghoon accompany her to the counter and attempt to pay for her takeout, it hit him that she attended the same school they were headed to tomorrow.

He and Seunghoon were best friends and they were fucking, but that was the extent of the commitment between them. Seunghoon could kiss him and ask a girl out with the same mouth. It was easy to forget, living in these suburbs, that other cities were rife with beautiful and brilliant strangers full of romantic potential—some of whom could offer new possibilities to him as well. Jinwoo didn't want to block off his own options in college either, but in their current arrangement it'd be impossible for him to smother his fixation and give anyone else a chance. 

Just like at every other point in this road, there were only two choices. Stop, or go.

It was a good thing for his own sake that he wasn't a less jealous person, Jinwoo thought with a pang of self-pity, outside in the alley beside the restaurant with his hands buried deep in Seunghoon's back pockets. He rose on his toes, and murmured into Seunghoon's ear: "Let's go to my place. I want to try something new."

Seunghoon let out a breathy laugh. "Did we miss a page in the Homo Sutra?"

"Yes, chapter sixty-nine," Jinwoo deadpanned, yanking Seunghoon by the elbow to the car.

The house was empty when they arrived, and Jinwoo made a beeline for his bedroom. Most of their hookups had taken place at Seunghoon's for obvious privacy reasons, but today his aunt's family was doing some shopping at the outlets across town—he'd begged off with the excuse of saving money now that he had to pay tuition—and they had at least two or three hours. Besides, he had a few sentimental ideas about how this should go. He wanted the memory made in his own space.

Jinwoo straddled Seunghoon on the bed and kissed him with both hands cupping his jaw, fingertips digging into the soft skin behind his ears; he loved those ears. He slid his hands down Seunghoon's neck, feeling the corded muscles tensing against his palms, then across the breadth of Seunghoon's shoulders and bony clavicles. He loved all of it, and it hurt to let any of it go, but it would kill him to have to share.

Seunghoon spread him out against the headboard and undressed him in the efficient, gentle manner Jinwoo had grown to savour. He took the lube Jinwoo retrieved from the nightstand and hesitated. "We can just do what we usually do," he said. 

"I want it," Jinwoo said firmly. "It's up to you to say no." He tightened the wrap of his legs around Seunghoon's hips, his ass pushed up against the top of Seunghoon's thighs, and Seunghoon grabbed his waist with surprising force, squeezing tight before uncapping the lube and lifting one of Jinwoo's legs over his shoulder. Jinwoo normally closed his eyes for this, but today he kept them open and fixed on Seunghoon's furrowed look of concentration as he pressed his fingers inside Jinwoo.

"I've never done this before either," Seunghoon said, once Jinwoo was stretched and ready. "So we're the blind leading the blind." It was intended to comfort, and Jinwoo's sore heart swelled at the consideration.

Seunghoon slowly pushed forward. It was strange and not quite pleasant, but the fact of it—Seunghoon's cock inside his ass, going deeper by the inch, filling him and stretching him—the reality of it made Jinwoo's head spin, his face so hot he had to pull away the arm he had flung over his eyes. Jinwoo hadn't expected his first time to be good, but while it wasn't bad, it was far from completely pleasurable. He still wanted it, though. He was still burning to cinders on the inside, just the way he'd had during every other act of intimacy despite his numb jaw; his sore knees; his spit-covered chin. All considered, Seunghoon's test wasn't actually a bad measure of commitment, but Jinwoo was still passing with flying colours. 

Neither of them lasted long, the pressure too new and overwhelming. Seunghoon made sure to jerk Jinwoo off first, fucked him a little more afterwards to watch him shake with sensitivity, then pulled out and finished on Jinwoo's thighs. They collapsed next to each other. Jinwoo immediately tried to remember if his aunt was vacuuming his room today and if there was any Febreze in the house.

Seunghoon's fingers clamped around his wrist, and Jinwoo started. 

"Say what you're gonna say," Seunghoon instructed him. 

"What?"

"I know you meant something by what we just did, so spell it out. I mean, I can guess, but you have to say it."

Jinwoo stared. "How do you know?"

"Last night before we leave forever for college miles away and you want me to take your virginity? Plus, you've been in a weird mood since lunch." Seunghoon propped himself up on an elbow. "Let it all out, Kim."

Jinwoo groaned and rolled onto his back. It was mid-afternoon, but the darkness of the room was reminiscent of their first sexual encounter, only thin slats of light leaking through the closed window blinds. "Do we have to do this now? I was going to nap first. I'm worn out."

"Whose fault is that, Mr. Last-minute-epiphany?"

Jinwoo sighed and counted three heartbeats, taking a breath and steeling himself before he stuck the knife between his own ribs: "Fine. I think we should stop doing this."

"That's what I thought you'd say. It felt like a farewell fuck." Seunghoon paused, picking at the thread of Jinwoo's spare pillow. "I know it's not fair for me to say this," he continued, "but while we're being honest, I actually hate hearing that more than I thought I would."

Jinwoo felt a jolt at the implication. That _is_ unfair, he wanted to respond immediately. He sat up, indignant and a little wild. "Okay, what does that mean?"

"I hate the idea of not—like, being able to touch you anymore." Seunghoon said slowly. "And this whole thing… I mean, it's pretty obvious that us fucking around has nothing to do with being a test for you at this point. Not since probably day two or three." 

"Yeah, you're right," Jinwoo said. "I'm gay, and I fucking like you." It wasn't fair that Seunghoon was trying to have this conversation with him, tugging Jinwoo's heart in half a dozen directions. He didn't need to be involved in whatever thought process Seunghoon had to go through to put this shit to rest. "Glad you agree. What else can I do for you?" 

It was rhetorical, but Seunghoon seemed to take it as a serious question. "I don't know. I mean, I don't think I'm—gay. But I liked what we were doing. I didn't want to stop."

"Didn't?"

"I don't want to stop." Seunghoon said, louder.

"You can't say that and leave me to fill in the rest," Jinwoo said. "It's irresponsible. You know I like you, I just said it. Why are you telling me this?"

"Fuck." Seunghoon rubbed his face. "I know, I'm sorry."

"Do you want to date?" Jinwoo's voice rose. His ass ached, and the afternoon was growing late. He estimated the time they had left alone. "Otherwise, just stop."

"Maybe. Shit, I don't know."

Waves of feeling rose through Jinwoo like continuous whiplash, dizzying him. "I'm possessive," he warned automatically, and wanted to slap himself. The lovesick part of him wondered what he could say to coax Seunghoon into fully crossing the line. The rational part made himself bite his tongue and wait.

"You know I broke up with Sarah partly because I didn't want to be tied down before college." Seunghoon said. "You know how much I didn't want to precommit myself. But I hate the idea of giving this up almost as much. Maybe just as much. I think it has to mean something that I went this far. Like, my dick was just up your ass."

"If we don't stop, you can't see anyone else." Seunghoon could talk as much as he wanted; Jinwoo needed to protect himself. 

"I know. It's weird, I feel like at some point this morphed into a test for me instead, you know? The sex was nice, but I really liked that we got closer. I got to know you in a different way." Seunghoon sounded heavy. "I can't promise you a lot, but I think it'd be a mistake for me to let go of what's happening here. If you're willing, too."

Jinwoo had thought they already knew each other as well as they could, but people weren't static after all. Maybe Seunghoon had undergone his own changes while Jinwoo had been focused on memorizing their bodies. Sometimes small decisions collected beneath the surface, unnoticed, before emerging transformed into new traits or convictions, like pearls in oysters. The future that awaited him was nothing but leaps of faith, he rationalized almost as a formality. It would make sense to take the first one on someone he already trusted. His ultimatum had begun to crumble at the first downward pull of Seunghoon's mouth at the start of this conversation. Seunghoon was right; he always fixated on familiarity. 

"Let's do it like that then." Jinwoo decided. His heart was pounding, but like Seunghoon, he'd regret walking away now in favour of a safer route. If there was pain lying ahead, he would survive it. "We'll keep it a test, and I'll let you know if you pass." This time, he would pay closer attention. 

"Yeah?" Seunghoon's smile was unsure, but he didn't sound displeased with the idea. "Are you going to go easy on me with the grading?" 

Tentatively, Jinwoo let himself smile back. "Not a chance."


End file.
